The Guardian

by Angus Wells

  We camped outside the town—which had already sealed its gates against us and manned its walls—and I went with Shara and Ellyn, Mattich and Jaime and Roark to persuade the authorities that we intended no harm, but would go by peacefully to the Geffyn Pass.

  It seemed the sheriff was appointed spokesman, for it was he answered my shout from the walls, kitted in full armor and escorted by bowmen. I was aware of their unblinking eyes and the barbed arrowheads as we spoke.

  “I am Gailard of the Devyn, also guardian of Chaldor’s Queen …”

  “The Queen is dead,” he interrupted. “Ryadne slew herself.”

  “Her daughter is alive.” I gestured at Ellyn, resplendent in her armor. “Ellyn is queen now, and would take back her throne.”

  “That child? I’d heard Talan slew her, and that Gailard betrayed Chaldor.”

  Ellyn snorted, setting her horse to dancing. I motioned her silent, but I heard Roark mutter a curse and say, “That child? One word and I’ll have his head.”

  “Easy, easy.” I rode my bay a little closer to the walls and raised my voice again. Bows were adjusted to sight on my chest. “We come in peace. The clans have no quarrel with Cu-na’Lhair. We’d only trade and go on.”

  “And shall we let you in, all you clansmen? We’ve received ambassadors from Chorym …”

  “Talan’s!” Ellyn shouted. “Doubtless with soft words and easy promises. Trade with Chaldor, perhaps? Gold coins to fill your pockets? And in return—what? Danant’s soldiers stationed here?”

  The sheriff was slow to answer. “There were … promises … made,” he allowed.

  “I’d thought,” Ellyn replied, “that Cu-na’Lhair was neutral.”

  Roark said, “We could take this place easily.”

  I was proud of Ellyn’s response. “No! I’d not disrupt old ways, and we cannot afford to destroy this place.” Softer, so that only Shara and I might hear, she murmured, “But we could.” Then, louder to the sheriff, “I am Ellyn of Chaldor, daughter of Andur and Ryadne, and I go home to reclaim my parents’ throne and free Chaldor of Talan’s domination. Now shall you open your gates and let us in?”

  “And do we not?” came the answer.

  “Then we’ll go by,” Ellyn replied. “But know that if we do, Chaldor shall no longer trade with Cu-na’Lhair. I’ll build another town—far greater—and extend the Great Road, that all trade goes past this place, and you’ll become a backwater, shamed by your cowardice.”

  She sounded to me like a true queen then, and I glanced at Shara, thinking that we’d taught her well. Shara met my eyes and smiled, not saying anything. The sheriff huffed and waved that we wait awhile, disappearing behind the ramparts.

  He returned with several folk about him—the city fathers and burghers, I supposed. They all stared down at us and went away again, and then came back to announce that we six might enter to discuss our needs.

  They were nervous. Danant’s ambassadors had assured them that Chaldor was firmly in Talan’s hands; that Ellyn was slain; that their best interests lay with Danant.

  But all the clans stood camped in sight of the walls, and that army was a more immediate force than anything Talan might send—so they conceded that we might trade with them, and that Cu-na’Lhair would remain neutral. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was done, and was grateful to return to our camp. I’d not have a hostile town at our back as we entered the Geffyn Pass.

  We remained six days outside Cu-na’Lhair—it was something of a festival, what with the trading and bartering—and when we left we took numerous folk with us: those who’d join our purpose and see Talan thrown back across the Durrakym.

  The women and old folk and children turned back then, and only the army went on, to the Geffyn Pass, where I was sure Talan’s forces would meet us.

  “We can destroy them,” Ellyn said. “Do Shara and I employ our magicks, we can fling them back like … like …” Her face flushed. “Like Nestor defeated my father.”

  “And tell Nestor you live?” Shara shook her head “Use magic now and he can find you.”

  “So?” Ellyn turned enthusiastic eyes toward her tutor. “Surely we can defeat him do we act in concert.”

  “Perhaps,” Shara said, “but he’s strong, and I’d not confront him until we reach Chorym.”

  “Why not? Can we not defeat him and Talan’s army, all together, in the Geffyn Pass?”

  “Talan won’t send all his army there,” I said. “He’ll send a part, and hold the rest back to defend Chorym.”

  “And he might have employed more Vachyn sorcerers,” Shara added. “I’d know the odds before we face him—or them. Do we use magic, he’ll answer in kind.”

  “I’d sooner he were bottled up in Chorym,” I said. “And I suspect that Talan will keep him there. The Danant usurper is not known for his courage, and I think he’ll want his tame mage at his side.”

  Ellyn scowled.

  “We face them blade to blade,” I said, “in honest battle. Let the clans push into Chaldor and surround Chorym, then use your magicks against the Vachyn.”

  Shara voiced her agreement, and all the chieftains, and Ellyn must be satisfied with that.

  Save: “I’ll fight with you,” she said.

  At which Roark touched her hand and whispered to her. And she scowled deeper and said, “No! Gailard taught me to fight, and I’ll fight with you! I’ll not sit back and watch men die for me.”

  Roark opened his mouth to protest, but I forestalled him. “She’s a canny warrior,” I said, “and can defeat most men. But even so …” I looked at her. “A general commands from safety. And a queen …”

  “I am not general, nor yet a queen. Put me on my parents’ throne and I’ll sit back and command. But until then, I fight with you!”

  I looked to Shara for support, but she only shrugged and favored me with an enigmatic smile. So I said, helplessly, “Not to the fore.”

  “I’ll play my part,” Ellyn answered.

  “And I’ll ward her,” Roark declared dutifully “My oath on it.”

  Which, for some reason I could not understand, irritated me.

  We came to the Geffyn Pass. There was frost on the grass now, and the sky hung grey above us. Summer’s swallows had gone away, leaving the sky to crows and ravens and hawks. I thought that Talan’s army would face us at the farther end, the ingress to Chaldor, and planned accordingly.

  I sent scouts ahead, and they returned with word that the Danant force waited for us at the southern exit. That it was a mighty force of chariots and mounted archers supported by hoplites—which was what I’d anticipated.

  Danant, like Chaldor, was a flat land ringed by hills, and the Danant style of warfare was adapted to the terrain. Danant fought swift, mobile battles, with chariots and mounted men; the heavy-armored hoplites there mostly to sweep up and slay what the horsemen left behind. I hoped they kept it so, and sent men into the hills to study anew what we faced. Then set out my strategy, which Mattich and the rest accepted, though it was a new style of fighting for them.

  We cut poles from the pines that grew in abundance along the pass, and hacked both ends to sharp spikes. Then, by night, we set the poles firmly in the ground, slanted forward. We could see the fires of Talan’s army burning, but his soldiers never heard us, and come the morning of the battle I sent Roark and his Quan warriors to clambering up the south side of the pass, and Jaime and his Arran to the north. I waited with the Devyn and the Agador and the Dur, massed to face the main attack. Shara and Ellyn were the only women with us now, and they both girded for battle.

  I rode forward with Mattich and a few others, as if we were the small vanguard of some ragtag clan army. We halted when we saw the force massed before us and pranced our horses as if in consternation. I had climbed the hills the night before and knew exactly what we faced. Talan’s general had set his army square across the mouth of the pass—around two thousand warriors, most of them mounted on horses or in chariots. There were perhaps five hundre
d hoplites, but did all go as I hoped, they’d be of little account. Did it not, they might sway the fight.

  We rode on, nocking arrows to our bows as a squadron of mounted archers came to meet us. We loosed shafts at one another, and I shouted in pride as I tumbled a man from his horse. Mattich cursed as his mount was hit, almost bucking him from the saddle. We traded more shots, then turned and ran, pretending fear, pursued by the Danant archers.

  Before we reached the wall of spikes—it was most important the Danant force not see that barricade yet—some five hundred men came charging out on foot. The Danant riders halted and turned back. We waited, and I felt my heart pound, for all depended on our luring the greater force to us. It was noonday by then and a warm breeze blew out of Chaldor, redolent of horses and metal and warfare, and in a while the prey came into my trap.

  There was a great rumbling echoed from the walls of the pass as the chariots came toward us. Birds rose in confusion and the roadway gave up great clouds of dust from the speeding wheels. They rode four abreast, packed in by the walls, with the mounted archers racing between and behind the charioteers lashing the two-horse teams, each chariot with one or two armored men readying bows or javelins. I was afoot, and I remembered the Darach Pass and the plain beyond, and Chaldor’s terrible defeat as I watched the racing chariots bear down.

  I raised my buckler and shouted, and we ran back as if terrified by Danant’s might.

  Back past the wall of sharpened poles that were still hidden by a line of men who waited until the chariots and the archers were almost on them before retreating.

  So that the leading horses ran headlong onto the spikes and were stuck and held as I waved to Mattich, and he blew a horn that called Roark and Jaime down even as chariot piled on chariot in terrible disarray, and the warriors to either side of the pass unleashed their bows and sent arrows raining onto the Danant force.

  The momentum of their attack was such that none could stop or turn back, but must press on, even as horses climbed over the backs of the chariots and screamed and died, filling the Geffyn Pass with the stink of blood and ordure, and the moans of dying men and animals. I shouted again and led the charge that brought all our Highlander army out from behind the poles, and down from the walls of the pass to fall on Talan’s men like ravaging wolves.

  It was close quarters then, and the chaos that brings. I lost sight of Ellyn and Shara as blades clashed. Arrows flew; men and horses died. The Quan and the Arran came down to seal the exit, bottling Talan’s men. I clambered over the body of a screaming horse to put my sword into the charioteer’s belly and smash away a probing javelin. The man I faced was armored in magnificent silver, and when I drove his spear from his hand, he drew a great, wide-bladed sword and slashed at my head. I ducked under his swing and knocked him from his platform with my buckler, and as he fell, I drove my blade into the gap between his breastplate and helmet and opened his throat. I trod on him as I progressed to my next victim, thinking that I’d grind Talan’s head thus. I saw an archer—somehow still mounted—aim a shaft in my direction, and raised my shield so that the heavy warhead rattled into the buckler. I slashed my blade across the horse’s muzzle and it screamed, rearing, spilling its rider, who died under my blade.

  I strode on through the carnage, hacking and cutting, slashing, taking blows on my shield as all around me rang the war shouts of the clans. Then a horn sounded and what few of the Danant force survived turned and ran. I bellowed that the clansmen hold back, and that our archers pick off whom they could, and more Danant men died in the retreat. I clambered a little way up the pass’s wall and surveyed the carnage. I calculated that half the enemy force was slain, and when I looked beyond the ingress I saw that what was left was mostly chariots and the hoplites; there were few mounted archers left alive, which suited my purpose well.

  I returned to the road and trotted to the mouth of the pass. The air stank of blood and dying, and I rested a moment on my sword. I was getting old, I thought. I was out of breath, and my buckler felt heavy in my hand. I glanced back and saw no enemies left behind me. I looked ahead and saw fleeing chariots and an army in disarray. I panted like a dog on a hot summer day.

  Then Mattich was at my side. “By all the gods, we beat them!” His armor was bloody, and he rested, panting like me, on his sword. “We turned them back.”

  I said, “Yes,” as I watched the remnants scurry away down the Great Road. “For now.”

  He nodded, understanding.

  “Victory!” Roark joined us. “We’ve shown Talan what the clans can do, eh?”

  I turned to him. His helm was dented and there was blood on his sword, and his youthful face was flushed with pride despite the cut that dripped blood down his cheek. I said, “A skirmish won. Not victory, yet.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “But the first step, eh? The first step to setting Ellyn on her throne.”

  “Where is Ellyn?” I asked.

  I looked around and saw her coming toward us with Jaime and his Arran. They were laughing together, and she held a bow. The quiver slung across her back was empty of shafts.

  “By the gods,” Jaime shouted, “but this child can flight an arrow!”

  Ellyn blushed with pride. Then gasped as she saw the blood on Roark’s face and ran toward him. I felt somewhat hurt as she touched his cheek. Surely I had blood on me, even was it not my own.

  “She joined us,” Jaime said, “and shot with my best.”

  I glowered at him and he added, abashed, “I’d not time to send her back—even did she agree to go. But she was safe; I watched her.”

  I grunted and looked for Shara.

  She came through the charnel wreckage like some lady maneuvering her way through the detritus of a ballroom. Or a goddess walking past the foolishness of humanity. She smiled at me and frowned at Ellyn, who—intent on Roark’s small wound—did not notice her.

  “She would not stay; I could not stop her.”

  I shrugged. “No matter now We won the day.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  I glanced at the sky. Twilight fell; swifts and swallows darted over Chaldor, snatching insects from the darkening air, and crows gathered along the Geffyn Pass, waiting for us to leave that they might feast. Talan’s men grouped defensively some little distance off. I could see their bright pavilions and the beginnings of fires.

  “They’ll not attack tonight,” I said. “But we’ll face them again on the morrow.”

  Shara nodded. “Nestor’s not with them. He’d have used magic, I think.”

  “Where is he then?” I asked.

  “In Chorym, with Talan,” she answered. “Save they’ve both fled.”

  I shook my head. “Talan will not give up so easily.”

  “Then it shall be as you say.” She smiled at me. “We shall find them both in the city.”

  “We must go past these first.” I gestured at the army before us. It was still large, although we now owned the greater number. “And Chorym shall be hard to take.”

  “We do what we must, no?”

  I smiled and touched her cheek, and nodded.

  Mattich said, “Do we attack again, Gailard?” His face was lit with battle joy, and beside him stood Jaime and Roark, like hounds straining at the leash as they scented victory.

  “Not yet,” I answered. “We rest and face them in the morning. Save …”

  That night small groups of Highlanders rode out to harry Danant’s army. Fire-arrows shafted across the starry sky to ignite tents and wake sleeping men; horses were loosed from the picket lines and sent stampeding away; sentries died with arrows in them, or their throats cut. I gave my enemies a troublesome night as I slept soundly, for all I dreamed of Shara and that unspoken promise: I needed to take Chorym.

  I rose while the sky was still that opalescent grey that precedes dawn. The air was poised between the Highlands’ chill and Chaldor’s late summer, and only the earliest-rising birds interrupted the sounds of clinking of armor and nervous horses, of
muted conversation and the scrape of whetstones on steel.

  I ate a bowl of porridge with the chieftains and set out my strategy.

  “We fight on open ground now,” I said, “and they’ll have the advantage there. Listen …”

  When I was done, I turned to Ellyn. “You will hold back, eh?”

  “I fought well enough yesterday.” She glanced at Jaime for confirmation. “Why not today?”

  “Because,” I said, “if you are slain, all this falls apart.”

  Roark said, “Gailard’s right, my …” He caught himself as Ellyn smiled.

  I still felt that strange resentment, but I looked to the Quan chieftain and said, “Take her with you, eh?”

  Roark nodded, understanding.

  I turned toward Shara, who grinned at me and made a small gesture that sealed off any further words.

  “So let’s to it,” I said.

  The Danant army set its chariots to the fore, the hoplites gathered behind. Whoever commanded them knew what I knew: that did they not halt us here, we must come down into Chaldor unopposed and lay siege to Chorym, where Talan lurked.

  There were perhaps seven hundred chariots facing us now, and I knew they’d deploy on a sweeping line to ride in and crush us—followed by the hoplites. I ordered the bulk of my army to mount, leaving some few hundreds behind afoot. The finest archers from all the clans I set to the fore, and we rode out.

  Danant came to meet us. The chariots thundered on the road. I held my cavalry back as the archers behind us fired in volleys. Horses and men fell, and the chariots spread wider, riding off the road onto the fields to either side. The ground was softer there, the grass dew-wet, and the heavy chariots slowed.

  I raised a hand and shouted the charge, and all our clansmen came racing to the attack.

  I caught a glance of Ellyn, drawing shafts and firing from the saddle of her chestnut mare as if she were born to be a warrior. I was grateful that Roark flanked her, his buckler raised. Then I was too occupied with warfare to think of aught than survival.